Into the Unknown

Thursday June 23rd, 2011

It’s here. My four months are over and I can’t seem to believe it. Not so subtle reminders are everywhere. My bags are packed, someone else is living in my room, a phone call was made to check on a departing flight, and so far I have cried more than I haven’t cried.

I trend to retreat into myself when it comes time for goodbye’s and because of my full awareness of this fact I told myself I was going to be intentional to fully live in the goodbyes of today. I didn’t want to miss out on the beautiful pain that goes along with saying goodbye to my loves. It, too…the pain…is such a gift. I’ve come to learn that one of the measuring sticks of giving my heart away is the pain that comes when I leave it behind. How much less joy would I encounter if I was too afraid to feel the pain?

I woke up and just laid there under my mosquito net. Who knows when I will open my eyes again to see the blanket of white covering over me? I wanted to drink it in as tears fell down my cheek. My feet touched the floor and I got ready just like every other day, only it didn’t feel like any other day. There was an added joy of satisfaction mingled with a daunting ball of emotion stuck in my throat.

I heard the horn outside. Oh, no! I HAD to say goodbye to the kiddos. Mercy, Wani, and Mike have been my three little amigos. Then were about to head off to school and I ran out there and asked Kaya to stop so I could say goodbye. Oh, my heart could barely stand it. I hugged my sweet babies and kissed their cheeks. I’m not sure they really knew that when they got home I’d be gone. Every fiber of my being knew fully well. Lord, please comfort them when they realize their gelatot buddy is gone. Thank you for gifting them with Rebecca. You have provided and I can’t thank you enough for that.

The team and I ate breakfast together and I couldn’t help but smile as I ate the grease soaked chapatti and yummy eggs just as I had so many times before in the past 4 months. In mere hours my diet will drastically change.

Calls were made to check on our MAF flight and we simply hung around the compound enjoying each other’s company and double checking we had everything packed and ready. Pictures were taken, sweet words were exchanged, and we were getting ready to head out. Then, we were told our flight was coming in later than we thought. Yes, I am still in South Sudan, and yes being late is perfectly on time. I am reminded at how much the Lord has worked on me as I am able to laugh and enjoy that truth for what it is. Even more so, I thanked the Lord for giving me more time. More time. Others may have been disappointed and I was resting in more time.

We decided to head up to the Seed Effect office with our extra time so some could use the Internet and we could possibly walk around Wudu market one last time. Praise You, Father. I was so thankful yet so fearful, too. I might break down. Actually, there was a good chance. I thought I had said all of my goodbye’s yesterday. I have to remind myself again of the beauty in the pain.

We ended up hanging out at the office for just a bit and then we all walked over to Wudu market. Scovia joined us, which simply blessed my heart. I could never express to her with my words the God send she was (is), so one last walk along the dirt road, hand in hand, will do…my sweet Sudanese sister given specifically to me for my time in Sudan. We walked around, I got to say goodbye one last time to a few of the Seed Effect Clients, and we headed back to the Seed effect office. Again, I found my eyes trying to permanently impress my sights into my mind, my nose memorizing the familiar smells, and my ears fine tuning to the specific sounds of this land.

Once getting back I saw Thomas walking up. Lord, thank you for the gift of Thomas. I was afraid I may not see him again. With each minute drawing nearer to my departure my tears were that much closer. I was able to have such a sweet conversation with Thomas, thanking him for selflessly serving me each and every time, serving his people, and ultimately serving Jesus. I managed to get out my heart’s longing to see him flourishing in the Lord, trusting Jesus in every way, in all things, at all times. Thomas was such a dear friend to me and simply made me laugh every time I was around him. In a place where so many things can go misunderstood, our language of laughter was medicine to my soul. We laughed often and we laughed hard. It hurts just thinking about how much I will miss his sweet smile and sarcastic nature.

Since we had some more time, the team and I ended up heading back over to Kaya’s for lunch. Boy was this entertaining. Apparently my dear friend Ami had put on a new nausea patch on in preparation for the flight. She also had taken some Dramamine orally in addition to this…and had not eaten. Are you picturing it? She was loopy. She was beyond loopy. She was entertaining to say the least.

Once lunch was over we all loaded up and headed towards the air strip to wait on the MAF flight. It began raining and all of my emotions flooded over me. As if I wasn’t fully aware of all the turmoil going on inside of me, my body was shouting it loud and clear in the form of a stomach ache. It’s amazing how our bodies speak to us in this way.

When we pulled up I was so excited to see the UN vehicle parked on the side of the road. My Pakistani friend was doing his duty on the air strip—intentionally to see us off. I was so thankful to get a chance to say goodbye to him one last time. Kaya soon drove up as well with Scovia. As everyone chit chatted about this or that I found myself feeling as if I were in a dream. Is this real? Am I about to leave what feels like home right now for the only home I knew prior to coming here? Of course the questions of, “What if I never see these people again?” and “Will I ever be back?” float in my mind and I’m doing everything I can to praise Jesus. I praise you Lord for allowing me to be here. Thank you for sharing this part of You with me. I am honored. I am humbled. I am so very grateful. I have been given a tremendous responsibility that will now forever be with me. I cherish it. I will honor You with it. Oh, Lord allow me to continue to see everything from your eyes, trusting you each step of the way.

I’m snapped back into reality with the familiar sound of my name coming from the lips of Kaya. “Jesseeca, are you going to cry?” I grin at him, knowing he knows the answer to his question. “Without a doubt.” I smile as tears well up.

My heart sinks as I hear the sound of the small plane engine flying above. It’s go time. Everyone scurries off the bus and we head across the road as the plane touches down. It was a frenzy. We’ are quickly informed that we have no time to waste. There was a storm coming in and if we didn’t get off the group in 5 minutes more or less we would have to wait it out which could mean a flight leaving tomorrow. Everything was happening so fast. Inside it was as if I was trying to grasp at air. I couldn’t quite get a hold. It was all going through my fingers.

I hugged Scovia. I shook my Pakistani friend’s hand, thanking him for his friendship and letting him know I will faithfully pray for him. The pilot yells at us to hurry. I walked up to Kaya, tears steadily falling from my eyes and couldn’t have managed to get anything out even if I had time. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged that sweet man as I have hugged my Daddy so many times. This was it.

I walked onto that little propeller plane, sat down, and buckled in. I watched all that entailed my 4 month journey get smaller and smaller as we flew into the clouds.

I was coming home, but it wasn’t the same me that left. I am changed. If ever I knew my journey wasn’t finished, it was now. So, just as I flew into Sudan with the unknown before me I was flying out of Sudan with the unknown beckoning my name yet again.